


Little Moth

by MizzAdamz



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dom Loki (Marvel), God-King, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Minor Thor/ Jane, Oral Sex, Other, POV First Person, Power Imbalance, Ruler and Subject realtions, bit of mythology thrown in because the author is a nerd, deliberatly ambigious gender, loki rules the earth, worshiping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizzAdamz/pseuds/MizzAdamz
Summary: Written for the Loki's Dirty Whispers Tumblr's contest in 2013This story didn't place in the contest, but I am proud enough of it to put it here.It takes place generations after Loki has subjugated Midgard (Earth) and is ruling it.A humble gardener is working in Loki's private gardens when their world is changed.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 13





	Little Moth

The Earth used to have Heroes, or so my mother told me. I used to fall asleep listening to tales of men in suits of iron flying in the sky, soldiers with no guns but only a shield, and even a green monster that destroyed as much as he saved. But these are just stories. The last hero disappeared at least two generations ago.

Now we only have Him.

Our God-King, the Walker Between Worlds, our Alien Ruler Most High, Loki Laufeyson.

What those historical heroes fought against is so strange to my ears. My mother had idolised them, and I cannot understand why they battled.

Since He took control of our lives, the Earth has thrived. Everyone has a purpose, and no soul is alone, nor are they starved while watching others have more than they can use in a lifetime. Our God-King has eliminated poverty, illness and greed. We all work, we all thrive, and we no longer fight with ourselves. The once arbitrary borders now are like those lost Heroes, trapped in the past.

Humanity has excelled itself and we owe it all to His guidance and it is a testament to His glory that we are more than the back biting children He first encountered.

Now we work to our callings, and I was a humble gardener. A gardener that had the great honour of working in the gardens where He Himself tended His apple tree.

A curious tree that bears blossoms and golden fruit and all the year, ignoring the seasons, and the apples shine so brightly mortal eyes cannot gaze at them for too long.

It was when I was re-pointing the stone walls that surround His mysterious tree that He noticed me.

I was using a small metal trowel to put mortar in the exposed cracks when He walked up from behind me and smiled.

“It pleases you to work with your hands?”

“mmmmm M’lord?” I stammered, terrified and awed, I turned to face Him and the shining tree behind him.

“Working with tools, manual labour, this pleases you?” He was gentle and magnanimous, completely ignoring my poor social skills.

“ye ye Yes Your Majesty! I dddd do!” I put the trowel in to the pail of mortar and bowed, a flush rising to my cheeks as I realised how foolish I was behaving.

His cool fingers touched my chin and forced me to look up at Him; “No. Keep your eyes on mine. That’s it, pet.”

It terrified me. Here I stood in front of the undisputed ruler of our world, the gracious and saviour of our kind, while covered in mud and drying mortar, showing no obeisance. “mmm M’lord, it isn’t right…”

“I wish to see your bright eyes look into mine as we speak. Are you denying your God-King his desires?” His voice was soft, but His hands were firm on my face. “Look at me.”

As I raised my eyes to His, properly looking into His emerald green irises He smiled.

“Your Majesty! I’m just a gardener, it pleases me greatly to work with the soil; and the honour of working near Your personal garden is more than I deserve.” I gasped as He continued to hold my gaze.

“You tend the land well,” He took His hand from my chin and it surprised me to feel myself leaning towards His touch again. His clever eyes noticed and His smile developed a sharpness, but His voice stayed as neutral as before, “I appreciate Your skills here.”

It was too much praise! I dropped to my knees and pressed my face into the ground. I muttered about the honour He had just given me, and other incoherent praises of His glory.

“You please me. You work well and you are mindful of your service to me. This has not gone unnoticed, pet.” He walked around my prostrate form and after He completed a full circle, His foot touched the pail and placed His toes just in front of my face.

Unbidden I reached forward and kissed the tip of His shoe, the thrill that ran through me was electric, and something hot and hungry awoke deep within.

If He noticed my little demonstration of devotion He never mentioned, He just stood over me while I lay in the earth quivering with need and the desire to touch Him again.

I don’t know how long I lay there, with His foot in front of my face, but I know I gave into the desire to touch my lips to His shoes a full 5 times and each time liquid fire raced through me. It was wonderful to be at His feet like this, but something in me wanted more. The smell of the wet soil added to the experience, and I lost myself in a heady miasma of desire and worship.

The miasma dissipated when I gave into the urge to kiss His foot again and tasted only earth. He had left me, and the sky had grown dark.

I whimpered a forlorn cry and got to my feet. As I gathered my tools by the light of the Magical Tree, I didn’t notice the faint shadow behind me or the strange heat shimmer in the air.

****

It was some time later that I could finish repairing the stone wall, and every time I was in the garden I remembered that experience.

I would often find myself, trowel in hand, mortar hardened and a moist wet hunger within, staring at the spot where I sank to my knees. Being touched by Him, being praised for my work, and that fugue where all that existed was Him and the soil.

It was a volatile memory and distracted me from my work. But before the season ended, I had repaired the walls, and I had to return to my other duties.

That spot where I knelt, just behind the wall, had become almost holy to me and I would return to it even if my work in the gardens took me elsewhere. I never let my pilgrimage detract from my work though, so I would make my way there often in the twilight hours and just kneel on the ground.

It was on one of these instances where I witnessed Him again. I was silently kneeling in my spot when I heard a rustle in the leaves of the magnificent tree. The light from the tree’s fruit blocked out the starlight in the night sky; but I saw the form of a bird of prey in the glowing branches.

I had to look away from the divine light of the fruit, but when I looked back, I could not see the bird and He stood there, with His back to me, looking at the tree.

I pressed my face to the earth, fearful; I did not know if I was permitted to be here in the dark. I had worked in the gardens at all hours, but there was no reason for me to be here; no reason apart from my need to be here, near where He touched me, where He spoke to me, where He saw me.

I knelt and shivered in fear and desire; I was so confused. Did I want Him to look at me again? Did I wish to escape His notice?

I know part of me wanted His touch, ached to know Him. My rational self knew I was unworthy of notice, I shouldn’t crave Him so; He was too far above me.

As I knelt in the earth facedown, confused and torn, He noticed me, or maybe He knew I was there all along. He came to where I was and the tip of His foot was in front of my face again.

Unhesitating, I kissed His shoe.

“You please me.” He whispered, as I kissed his foot again. “Your kind all bow to me, you all thrive under my rule, as I knew you would. But you, your sweet submission is a music to me.” He pulled His foot away from my lips and His voice was close in my ear, a sultry whisper.

“I have all the power this world can give a ruler, it is rightfully mine, and I care for you all. But you, little one, this nightly devotion to me with your worship of my memory pleases me greatly.”

His words made my heart race, and a hunger almost consumed me. I wanted more, I never wanted it to end. I was dizzy and breathless. Then when He touched me, I gasped and swooned into His arms.

“How many can say they have the power to undo you with a simple touch? Hmm? Few, I would say. Is it my power that draws you so? Or is it the light from the tree? Are you a little moth trying to fly into the light of the candle, burning yourself in the attempt to touch the light?”

“I do.. do not know. I do not unn understand. I all I feel is need M’lord. I need to worship You; it is physical, this desire.” I shook my head back and forth while His hands gripped my shoulders, holding me upright.

“I ache, M’lord, and the only thing that eases the ache is being near you, but being near you creates more confusion. I am lost, sire, I am so lost.” I wept, my confusion, my desire, my need and my bliss all overwhelmed my senses until I was incoherent.

He held me firmly, with gentle arms, while I cried my confusion and need. I found myself cradled in His lap, while His hands smoothed my hair. I wept in my God’s arms until I slept.

****

I woke, covered in a simple wool blanket, but I was still on the bare earth. A chill went through my body as the cold ground leached heat from my body. I sat up and gathered the blanket around my body.

“Always have twice as much below you as above you when you sleep.” My father’s voice echoed in my memory. “If you have one blanket, place it under you, you’ll freeze faster with it above you than below.”

I smiled at the memory of being outdoors with my father. It was what helped me learn that I was meant to tend the land and how I became a gardener, those long ago forays into the wilderness.

Wilderness that had recovered quickly after the destruction we humans had done in our greed, and then finally in the last struggles of our futile resistance. Then He saved us from ourselves and gave us true freedom.

It was with that thought I realised that I was still in His garden, still on my spot. I was alone, apart from the Golden Tree shining behind me.

I must have fallen asleep in His arms, weeping like a babe. Then He lay me down and covered me with the blanket.

I couldn’t have slept on the ground long, the cold beneath me would have woken me quickly. So had I spent the night in His arms?

That He had held me through the night and then lay me down to wake naturally with the daylight was unnerving.

My mother had often whispered at the cruel acts our King had committed in the days when we had heroes. Warning that He could be vindictive and deadly.

“He killed his own brother, threw him off a mighty bridge.” She would gasp wide eyed. “A brother who had sheltered him and loved him.

“They feared him, all the Heroes of legend feared him, and when he threw his own blood into the abyss, they all knew how savage he truly was.”

Holding a weeping gardener throughout the night did not seem like the act of a savage being. No, my mother was foolish in her desires for a world of stories and legends. He ruled us and we as a race had never prospered as we do now under His Guidance.

“Mother, I will always love you, but you were, and are wrong about Him. I will worship Him with my whole being, He is worthy of it and so much more.” I muttered as I folded the blanket neatly and placed it on my spot.

As I walked out of the garden to start my day, I did not notice the blanket lift off the ground and drape itself over an invisible arm.

****

I was pruning some thorny shrubs after the mid-day break and enjoying the feeling of the sun on my face when I got a large spine stuck in the space between my fingers. I muttered a soft curse and dropped my shears. I moved my hand towards my mouth when it was grabbed up by a firm, cool grip.

“Seems my Little Moth’s focus on the light prevents them from paying attention to the dangers of the world.” He chuckled and took the barb from my flesh.

“Such a little hurt, this, though it is the little wounds that plague us most, isn’t it?” He ran his thumb over the injury and it vanished.

“M’lord.. I can’t..” I opened and closed my mouth in my shock and confusion. He just placed a finger over my lips and stilled my protests.

“The work you do with those hands of yours is beautiful and needed. I cannot have you injured while you care for my gardens.” He removed His finger from my lips and let go of my hand.

“I do what I can to help all of my people. None of you are beneath my notice nor my concern.”

I bowed and said; “Yes, M’lord.”

“Now Little Moth, do you have a name?” He paused and then shook his head. “No, I do not think you need one, do you? What use is a name, when it can be changed at will? I think it would better suit if I chose what to call you.” He lifted my chin so I could look Him in the eyes.

“Darling, Pet, Lover, Little One, Sweetling, these names are inconsequential. The only title you need to bear is Mine.”

He then kissed me fiercely, holding me upright by my chin. His grip was unyielding and I wouldn’t have pulled away if I could. His kiss soon became my entire existence, I began where His lips met mine and I ended where His fingers gripped me.

That kiss lasted forever, it ended too soon. When He pulled back from me I glimpsed the cruel man, my mother tried to make me fear, lurking there in His eyes. The knowledge that He was both benevolent and cruel didn’t scare me. It made me want to worship Him more.

“You choose us, didn’t you? You choose us and you are kind. You don’t have to be, you can be cruel and malicious, but you aren’t. You saved us.”

I fell to my knees and looked up at him.

“You are so powerful, so masterful, You could destroy us without thought. We are so small to You and You spare us. You bless us all. You bless me.” I didn’t put my face into the ground, I just knelt there and looked up at Him with tears in my eyes.

“With all the power you hold, some would call you a monster,” Something flashed in those eyes, a glimmer of red that faded back to green in a heartbeat. “I wouldn’t though, You are benevolence personified. Thank You. You saved us from ourselves, Thank You.” I finished, then put my forehead on the ground at His feet.

“So much passion and faith in you, Little Moth. How can a fragile little body hold so much devotion and loyalty?” He sounded pleased, pleased with me. “On your feet little one, I would have you finish your work and afterward come to me. You know where I will wait.” He walked away while I had my face pressed into the earth.

****

If I were to claim I rushed my duties I wouldn’t be lying, but it would be a small truth. I barely touched the shrubs with my shears before I stowed them and rushed to my spot in His garden.

When I arrived I knelt and waited with my heart in my throat. I didn’t know what I wished for, what I desired. I understood nothing that had happened so far between the great God-King and myself.

His kisses were potent drugs that left me disorientated and aching. His touch warmed me throughly but left something hollow with in me. When I was at his feet I was at peace, whole and not myself. This was so strange, so alien to me.

Lost in my confusion, I was trying to sort out my thoughts when He touched my shoulder. I leaned into him, resting on the solid form of his leg.

This was all I needed. Him near me. This was right. I sighed with contentment.

His fingers entwined in my hair, and I purred.

“You know things most of your kind do not, don’t you, Little Moth? You know of how I came to be king?”

“My mother..”

“Granddaughter of Jane Kincaid.” His voice had some strange ice to it.

“She told me stories. Stories are all they are, Sire. I see the truth of things.” His hand lifted away from me, but His comforting leg did not move away.

“I see that You knew the right of things. You knew we were on a path of self-destruction. Our childish, selfish greed was ruining the planet, was starving our people, and our cruelty to ourselves would have led us to our own extinction.

“You saw us, You saw we could not cope. You stopped us from hurting ourselves. A strict but loving guardian You took away the tools we were unfit to have.”

He was silent for a long time. When He spoke His muscles were tense behind me. “And of my brother?”

“He was a fool, if he opposed You as my mother claims. He couldn’t see Your wisdom. I doubt You threw him off a great bridge. I’ve seen You work miracles, Sire. You may have fought, but You would not have thrown him. If he had gone over You would have tried to save him.”

“How is it you, a little mortal, can see me so clearly? You know all this and still you submit. You kneel at my feet, the progeny of one who hated me so and you submit so wholly.

“Your submission to me, with the weight of your knowledge and experience behind it, is a heady drug. It is one I will have to take often.” His hand returned to my hair, and I leaned into His touch.

“You are a gardener no more.” His hand tightened on my hair as I tried to pull away. “No Little Moth, you are no gardener, you are Mine.” He pulled painfully at the last word. And though it should have terrified me, I had never felt safer.

A knot undid itself in my being and I relaxed into the pain, relaxed against the leg of the Alien Ruler of my planet and me.

“This truly pleases you, doesn’t it?” he asked as he loosened his painful grip on my hair. “At first when you fell to your knees in front of me, I thought I terrified you. Then you kissed my boot.” He laughed,

“I had seen you before, working diligently, so I thought you yearned for the apples, but feared to touch them. As you rightly should. If you were to consume one you would burn up in less time than it takes to swallow the first bite. But after that first kiss, and it was a timid thing, I knew it wasn’t the apples. You wanted much, much more. You had to kiss it again and again. Though you couldn’t stay away from the burning candle, could you?

“You knelt staring at this patch of grass for days afterward. Then returning nightly to kneel in the same place. You working in my gardens, always looking towards this garden when you had a moment to spare. The apples held no mystery for you, it was I who captured your imagination.

“It was then that I looked into your history, you mortals have such brief lives it surprised me to find we had common history. Your great-grandame was once my brother’s lover, and I grew suspicious.

“What if you were after revenge? I know how mortals think, and I do not doubt that your kind can plot revenge into further generations. Jane was ever a stubborn woman.

“So I confronted you, I stood before you as I had before and you completed your ritual. You worshiped me as your God, and I knew there was a revenge plot. No mortal would ever give themselves so wholly. No descendant of Jane Kincaid who had heard of my devilry from the cradle would submit.

“I played the game. I am a trickster. I taunted you and I teased. Then you became overwrought and swooned in my arms. You clung to me as would a child. This puzzled me.

“When you woke the next morning you spoke as if your mother could hear you, though we both know she no longer walks the Earth. Tell me Little Moth did you mean those words to your deceased mother?”

“I did, and I do M’Lord. You are worthy of so much more than I can give You.”

“Good,” He pulled away from me and I whimpered at the loss of His touch. “Now, Little Moth, you are so skilled at shaping my gardens. Show me what being Mine means to you. Come, darling, show me what else you can do with your precious hands.” He walked around to face me and I understood what He meant.

His trousers were tight against His groin, and His member twitched expectantly under the material.

I tentatively reached forward and grazed Him with the back of my hand. His breath hitched, and I swallowed. I was really going to do this. I was really going to service my King, here in the gardens, covered in earth and the remains of the shrub and weeds.

I undid the fastenings of his trousers quickly, still unsure of myself but as He hadn’t spoken I reached inward and pulled out His member. It was pale, long, and had a slight bend to the left. It was cool in my hand and looked so pristine next to my muddy, calloused hands.

He moaned ever so slightly as my touch, so I kept a firm grip and reached in to His open trousers and pulled out His testicles with my spare hand.

I cupped them gently in the palm of my hand and enjoyed the weight of them. They were warmer than His cock but still cooler than my flesh; I didn’t care about the mystery then; I was just fascinated with how He felt in my hands. The combination of weight and length, mixed with the scent of loam and the sound of His breathing was enough to take control of all my senses.

I remembered the feeling of His lips against mine, His passionate kiss, His tongue in my mouth, and I wanted to taste Him again.

I leaned forward and kissed His length, short little butterfly kisses starting at His tip and working down to the base of His shaft.

There I breathed in, a cold sharp scent that had a hint of musk. My tongue snaked out and licked His groin and I moved downwards to my cupped hand.

My mouth gently teased first one then the other side and then I opened wide and took one testicle in my mouth, holding it there, in my warmth.

While I held Him in my mouth, I moved the hand I had wrapped around His shaft up and down his length.

“Oh, you fly too close to the light Little Moth” He gasped and His hands we tangled back in my hair. As my God-King tugged on me I pulled at Him and sucked Him.

When I felt Him tighten and pull up out of my mouth, I knew what I was to do, and took His full length into my mouth and pressed my fingers in that sweet spot behind His taut sack.

He thrust into my mouth and had His hands as fists in my hair. “Are you ready to burn Little Moth?” He growled, forcing Himself deep in my throat. “Are you ready to touch the brilliant light? Because you will burn my little mortal. You are MINE.” With those last words he came deep in my throat, a cool bitter fluid that was wholly his.

He finished spilling Himself in my mouth and pulled out, then He casually wiped the tip of His penis on my shoulder before tucking Himself back into His trousers. He left them open, and it took me a heartbeat before I understood I was to fasten them.

As I fumbled with my task, my cheeks burning with shame, my God-King laughed cooly.

“Oh Little Moth, you call me benign, and I can be. But I can also be cruel. You are going to learn just how cruel I can be.”

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me upright, “It is too late to fly into the night Little Moth, the flame has you,” and He kissed me cruelly.


End file.
